Complex Theory
by Minerva Teller of tales
Summary: A Sol Ky fiction that starts with past events and relationships and comes right up to the current time. Slash warning.


It's against your beliefs. Me I mean, well everything about me probably. From the way   
  
that I walk to the words that erupt from my lips. You don't really know how much you complicate   
  
me. That's why I left, not because of why you think, but because of the things you make me do.  
  
Complex Theory  
  
Part I  
  
Implications  
  
  
  
SOL POV  
  
He was looking at me again. Those harsh blue eyes that gaged my every move   
  
cautiously were narrowed in annoyance as I took a long drag on my cigarette. Ever since the first   
  
day that old man had brought me here, he was always giving me that scrutinizing gaze. I glanced   
  
back at him from the corner of my eye. Ky turned to the side letting out an exasperated breath. I   
  
could tell that he was disgusted by my presence and only tolerated me because of what the old   
  
man said. I'm certain that had the choice been his, regardless of my skill I would not be here. I   
  
gave him that sideways smirk he hated, even if it was to the back of his head. So I wondered why   
  
on earth he was out here. More importantly, why was I here? Ah yes. Because of him. Why would   
  
I, the "deplorable" man that I am be helping the holy knights? It was all for Ky Kiske. I had no   
  
other reason for being here. Since I first saw him, well, I can't explain it. It was one thing that I   
  
didn't know anything about. I never bothered with trivial things as emotions or feelings, so what   
  
was it about him that stumped me?  
  
  
  
What? Oh he was talking to me with that soft androgynous voice. I turned to   
  
acknowledge his pouting form. I smirked to get that rise out of him that I like so much. "What? I   
  
didn't hear ya." He sighed with annoyance and repeated causing me to chuckle. "Oh so the   
  
almighty Ky Kiske needs to ask favors of Sol the terrible eh?" He gave me a disgusted look that   
  
caused another haughty laugh to come from me. "I'll humor you and play 'Holy Knights'."  
  
  
  
I could tell that he was in the least to say, angered by my snide remark, but he   
  
restrained himself from hitting me. I turned and walked away into the night relieving him of my   
  
presence. I needed a break from him too. A hard whiskey would do nicely. I needed to think about   
  
him, I mean aw screw it. You know I'd be pondering about him.   
  
  
  
  
  
Ky Kiske was the young leader of the Holy Knights as you know. To say the least I was   
  
surprised at the resolve that he showed at such an age. I swirled the amber liquid in my  
  
glass as I thought I about him. In my opinion he was still a boy. I believed that he had been forced   
  
to grow up way too quickly. His skill with a sword was commendable, and that's pretty damn good   
  
if it's coming from me. He was intelligent and knew tactical thinking and strategery quite well, he   
  
always looked flawless, and he was very strong-willed. "Kiske..." whenever I pondered him over a   
  
drink, his name always seemed to come out. Sometimes I wished I was normal so that a few   
  
shots of whiskey would get me thoroughly hammered enough to keep my mind of religion boy.   
  
Damnable boy. I could never truly shake him from my mind. My bar tab was going to be so   
  
fucking expensive by the end of the month. Just being around him always caused me to need to   
  
get in some fashion inebriated. Of course sometimes even such a state of mind didn't help.   
  
Sometimes it caused my thoughts to go even further south, and in ways I never thought I'd think.   
  
Hey I'm not a complete ass. I normally only do it to him to get a rise from him. Everyone else as   
  
far as I'm concerned can go fuck a tree. Ok so I am a bit of a bastard, but not that anybody cares.   
  
I mean Ky does. He's always trying to correct me, from my language to my posture. I'm only too   
  
fortunate that he hasn't found out a lot about me.  
  
  
  
I look at my reflection in my whiskey. By his God, if he knew that I was a gear then he   
  
probably would have ejected me from the holy knights and try to run me through with that Furaiken   
  
of his. You know I curse the fact what I was the one to get experimented on. Well Fredrick was,   
  
and he in turn became me. I curse it, but also find a few pros with it, such as the extended good   
  
looks I've kept through the years, the extra strength that I have inherited from it, and oh yes,   
  
meeting Kiske. I can't understand what it is about him, he's so prude and stick up the ass.   
  
Speaking of which..........perhaps I should turn myself to another subject, like how dumb this   
  
uniform looks. Well on me, but not on him. No, his lithe body seems to fit nicely into it or out of it.  
  
  
  
I really should get my mind out of the gutter. This is definitely something that would   
  
scream sacrilege to him. He's so stiff, I bet he doesn't even so much as look the other way much   
  
less swing it. No matter what he was, those naive eyes would always be haunting me. I could   
  
always feel them boring into me as if trying to challenge my very soul, that is if I believed I had   
  
one. He was so innocent. Sure he knew the ways of war seeing as he was the leader of an army   
  
of holy knights, but he knew literally nothing of the world. He was aware of only his little justice   
  
filled sphere. He was mostly appalled by me, and I was in a sense the way the world was. Rugged   
  
and harsh. I was sure though that the world would be kind to him. He was one of those rare   
  
charismatic people. The ones that everyone adores, or at least respects.  
  
  
  
Man my mind seemed to be running rampant tonight. I was already on my third glass. I   
  
guess for the greater good I might as well turn it in for the night.  
  
KY POV  
  
  
  
Sol, I couldn't stand him. Or at least that's what I thought. Everything about that sinful   
  
man annoyed me. He was rude and had terrible habits, and no respect for authority. He was so   
  
rough that I found myself mildly surprised that he even bothered to keep his face cleanly shaven.   
  
He was insufferable, but as many cons as I could find with him I was also able to find more pros.   
  
He was an utterly fascinating person. He seemed to have an endless flow of strength. Sometimes   
  
it made me wonder if he was even human at all. He had these eyes like a wild beast. Sometimes   
  
they even glowed like those of a large cat. His eyes were such an odd shade, sort of like a   
  
sunset. If his eyes were a maze I'd be lost in the twisting labyrinth of them. Oh but enough on his   
  
eyes. I'm trying to not think about his good qualities, but I find that even as much as he annoys   
  
me, that's a terribly hard thing to do.  
  
  
  
God forgive me for being judgmental. Forgive me for momentarily thinking sinfully of   
  
such a worldly man. As a knight of God's holy order I must keep my mind clear of anything   
  
worldly, and Sol was one of those things. He was a worldly distraction. From now on I needed to   
  
keep from dwelling on him any more than need be. I needed to be strong and not worry about the   
  
riff-raff like him. Let him do as he wishes and let god strike him down. What type of man does that   
  
make me? It makes me worse than him to wish for god to strike him down. What a dilemma.   
  
Perhaps praying for temperance right now would be the best thing.  
  
  
  
All of my officers were asleep now as I wandered to the chapel to pray. I gazed upon the   
  
statue of my Christ. Tonight he seemed to be here. I knelt down asking god to forgive my   
  
insubordinance and to give me the patience and wisdom to lead his knights. I beseeched god so   
  
that I might have strength to survive this ordeal. I prayed for him to cleanse me of my unholy   
  
thinking, but the harder I prayed it seemed the more he was on my mind. Sometimes I wondered if   
  
Sol was the devil come to torment me. He acted like it sometimes. Always trying to anger me,   
  
and most of the time succeeding, but dwelling on that was not why I came here.  
  
  
  
The silence and slight candle light in the chapel game me some measure of peace. It   
  
calmed my angry mind. I took deep breaths savoring the spicy scent of incense and began to pray   
  
again with soft words. I guess when I was alone to pray like this I felt the best. I felt the safest   
  
here too. It was if the purity of this place allowed no evils of the world.........  
  
  
  
Save one..... I could feel the patience praying had given me slip between my grasp as I   
  
felt his presence. I clutched at the silver cross around my neck so hard I could feel the imprint of it maker on my palm. My back went rigid as I heard the clunk of his boots start toward me. I could tell from his undeniable scent that he'd been drinking and he'd just recently finished a cigarette. Even more of a reason for me to be upset, that he would be so disrespectful as to come   
  
into the place of God in such a state.  
  
  
  
  
  
"Don't let me interrupt your little chat." The gruff voice of Sol rung in my ears. "I think it's   
  
pretty damned weird talking to something that doesn't exist."  
  
  
  
I felt my hand twitch and instantly I was on my feet the furaiken in front of me. "You can   
  
insult me, but I'll ask you not to insult God." I hissed vehemently at him.  
  
  
  
Sol glanced at me from underneath his unruly bangs and closed his fist around the blade   
  
of the sword ignoring the sharpness of the blade. His fist started to slid up and down across the   
  
blade coating it with a coating of his blood. My eyes widened as I looked at the simple repetitive   
  
action. The crimson liquid running down the thunder seal was not the cause for my shock, but the   
  
sheer sinful nature of what his hand was mimicking. I turned my burning face away.  
  
  
  
"I have no need for God, therefore I can insult him all I want." With his free hand Sol had   
  
brought the Fire seal to rest uncomfortably beneath my chin. "You may be the commander little   
  
boy, but that by no means makes you any better than me. I have experienced the world in ways   
  
that would tear your virgin mind to shreds."  
  
  
  
In that instant he was gone, but I could still feel the scalding heat of the Fueken against   
  
my neck. No not the heat from the sword, but the heat from its wielder.  
  
A/N: So this is my first Guilty Gear Fic. I am taking lots of creative license with this especially   
  
since I've only played GGXX and only know snippets of the story. Anyway, I hope to have another   
  
chapter out soon. Tell me what you think or what I need to improve. Oh yeah sorry if it's in a wierd format I.E. having spaces in wierd spots. For some odd reason this document didn't want to upload properly. I promise I'll try to fix it for the next chapter. 


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